


Sometimes we are only happy when it rains

by commander_lexa



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Post-Finale, Shaw-centric, angst angst angst, im telling you right now this is not happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commander_lexa/pseuds/commander_lexa
Summary: Afterwards things are different.It is hard for Shaw to wrap her head around the fact that the world can come so close to ending without people even knowing about it. But, then again, there are a lot of things that Shaw has trouble understanding these days.She misses Root. That she is sure of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because these two just won't leave me

Afterwards, things are different. 

It is hard for Shaw to wrap her head around the fact that the world can come so close to ending without people even knowing about it. The city keeps on moving without knowing how much it could've lost. How can destruction be so quiet? How is it possible to be so unaware?

But, then again, there are a lot of things that Shaw has trouble understanding these days. So many little nuances of reality that do not seem so plausible anymore. 

She misses Root. That is something she is sure of.

The first time Shaw screams at a camera, -or, the first time she does since everything almost came to an end, that is- nothing happens. She is both relieved and disheartened. It is surprisingly hard to determine what is real when the volume is turned up so loud. She wonders how people deal with feelings everyday, all the time. Why won't her head just shut up. It screams at her as Shaw searches for a reset button. 

She doesn't find one.

It all feels like it was worthless, now. She fought so hard, she spent months and months in the same 24 hours of hell and this is what she has to show for it? An empty apartment and an empty grave. 

Root died alone. This is the thought that really gets to her. The part that really completely pisses her off. 

Root died alone. She died scared, and cold, and with a bullet in her side that was not meant for her. It's unfair. It's so fucking unfair and because they spent all this time trying to get back to each other and the least she should get in the opportunity to die with Root next to her. Shaw thought she at least deserved that. And now that everything is so loud she think she might know what Root was always trying to say to her with her big eyes and her bittersweet smiles. Root deserved to know that she felt the same, maybe, if that was even possible. 

But fuck it. Fuck what anyone deserves. 

She's going to go down with enough gunfire for the both of them.

* * *

Nightmares run through her head like self-made simulations, killing Root a hundred times over. She wakes from them each morning after her dream self has pulled the trigger, gasping and exhausted and disappointed that she is not dead as well. 

Things do not feel real anymore. The apartment feels empty, wrong. The floors are too warm, her clothes are too soft, her bed is too large. Something is missing and she knows exactly what. Bear lays in the empty side of the bed and whines when she wakes in a cold sweat, but even his presence isn't enough to calm her. In fact, the bunny slippers that he is constantly chewing on only seem to increase the hole she can feel deep inside of her. Shaw returns him to Fusco three days later, the slipper in his mouth. She can't take care of him anymore. She can't even take care of herself. Shaw does not explain, and Fusco does not ask questions, for which she is grateful for. Shaw does not say goodbye either. It's easier that way. 

She doesn't leave the apartment after that. Outside is too loud, too busy, and it makes it hard for her to remember what is real and what is not. The apartment may be full of ghosts but at least she remembers it, at least it never showed up in the simulations. Her only memories of this place are real ones, and it doesn't make it hurt any less, but it makes it a little easier.

She spends days waiting for Root to walk in the door, to wake her up from this nightmare, but it never happens. The silence of the apartment is deafening. It keeps her awake at night. Her phone rings on the second day and she answers it only to hear a voice that isn't Root's on the other end. It sends her head spinning for a moment before she remembers, and the phone is sent flying into the wall. It keeps ringing, again and again, so Shaw takes out the battery, and then shoots it for good measure because it feels good shooting something again. 

She goes back to the silence. She doesn't appreciate it any more than she did before.

* * *

Shaw doesn't remember her father dying.

That's a lie. 

She remembers the night with perfect clarity. She remembers the song that was playing on the radio when the headlights from another car got too close. She remembers she sound of crunching metal when they collided. She remembers the feeling of weightlessness as the rolling of the car sent her bouncing around her seat. She remembers the burn of the seatbelt against her collarbone, the scraps on her knees that burned as she crawled out from underneath the wrack, pebbles digging into her palms. 

She remembers the sandwich she ate in the back of the ambulance. It was not as good as the ones that her dad made, but she ate it all anyways.

What she doesn't remember is how she felt. Probably because she didn't feel anything. It's not like that now, and she finds herself wishing for the numbness. 

She feels like she is forever stuck in the moments before the crash, hyper aware of everything that is wrong. The world is moving too fast and too slow at the same time. She can't grasp onto anything real except for the pain in her chest. It's like she can't breathe. She wonders if this is how it's suppose to be. She wonders if this is what it is like for other people all the time.

She wonders if this was what Root felt like when she was gone. It was easier when Shaw was the one who was dead. She does not like being the one left behind. 

Because Root she remembers. That is not something that she can even pretend to forget. Memories of her father are clouded with the years that have passed, painted by a younger version of herself that Shaw does not know anymore. She cannot trust the memories of that girl just as much as she cannot trust her memories now, but these ones feel more real, more fresh, more full. They stay with her always. The sound of her voice, the smell of her hair, the feeling of their bodies against one another. This is not Shaw's first time wishing to forget something, but it is the only time that she has not even remotely succeeded.

Root sticks to her like a second skin, as warm and real as the leather jacket of hers that Shaw wears. Root haunts both her waking moments and her dreams. She follows her around, asking Shaw why she did not save her. Asking Shaw why she did not find her in time, why she did not say goodbye.

Shaw decides that Root's ghost is more annoying that the real thing. At least the real Root she could punch (or kiss) to make her shut up, but the phantom Root that hovers around her talks without its lips moving. 

She hates that half of her memories of Root are not real ones, that the most time they ever got to spend together we're in simulations or nightmares dreamt up by Shaw's grief-filled mind. She can't remember if she ever told real Root all of the things that she told her in simulation. She hopes that Root knew either way. 

Who knew that living would even more tiring than dying seven thousand times?

* * *

It takes two weeks of isolation and no sleep for Shaw to make her decision. Well, really, it takes two minutes for her the make her decision, and the rest of her time to pull herself from the bourbon soaked hole that she has dig herself into. 

The Machine tries to talk her out of it -the new Machine, or whatever is left of the old one, Shaw doesn't really understand the logistics of it all. She uses her voice and it brings Shaw back to a moment in a park that she isn't even sure was real or simulation. She is having more and more trouble with that lately. Her voice burns holes into her ears and into her chest, and she knows it's not her but it still hurts. It's not real, she knows this, but sometimes she wants it to be. Either way, it almost works.

Almost. 

She starts with the man who killed her. He isn't hard to find. He tries to talk her out of it too, but Shaw still isn't listening. She can't hear a word he says. All she can think about is Reese and Root and everyone else she has lost. She shoots him once for each of them. And then, because it isn't enough, she punches him again and again until her hand hurts. And when he is dead and she is covered in his blood it still doesn't feel any better. 

Samaritan had deep roots, Shaw learns that quickly. When their God dropped to its knees, most of Samaritan's supporters went underground, scrambling for some resemblance of a life to go back to. But they don't have an all seeing AI to protect them anymore, and Shaw has one that wants to find them almost as much as she does. 

Her and the Machine don't talk about Root, not anymore. They don't talk about anything, in fact, not about Bear, or Finch, or Fusco. They don't talk about Reese. They don't talk about how the Machine has switched her voice back to strings of random words sewn together, or how Shaw is slipping into a rabbit hole that she may not be able to pull herself out of. They only talk about the numbers. About the people Shaw is going to make pay. Shaw does not question why this new Machine has traded saving people to killing them, but then again, Shaw has done the exact same thing. She is thankful for the silence. It makes losing herself just a little bit easier. 

She shoots every Samaritan agent on sight. She's not about kneecapping anymore. Her mercy died with her friends.

* * *

It's a young girl who finally takes her down. She has dark hair and darker eyes and she is not alone. She has a gun in each hand and a smirk on her face.

She reminds her of Root. 

It's this fact that gets Shaw, this fact that distracts her long enough to get shot. The first bullet hits her left shoulder, shattering her collarbone in the process. The second enters her abdomen and lodges between her ribs. The third tears through her just above her right hip. Shaw knows that she's going to die as soon as she hits the ground. She sees the girl running away as she goes down. At least Root was never a coward. 

Shaw doesn't even bother putting pressure on the wound. She knows she is going to bleed out either way. It won't be more than a minute now. She wonders what Bear is doing. She wonders what Root is doing. She wonders if she's hungry or if it is just the bullet in her stomach.

It hurts a lot, and then it doesn't. Shaw's vision blurs, and the world slows down around her until she can hear nothing but an approaching clicking. The sound of boot heels on concrete. 

The darkness envelopes her. There is nothing, and then, a familiar voice.

"Hey sweetie, did you miss me?"

**Author's Note:**

> I promise all of my works aren't this sad. Thank you for reading.


End file.
